War for Rython (Abandoned)
by Death546
Summary: Dead story
1. Introduction

Welcome to Rython. A land with many strifes. Races divided, monsters roam. The Dwarves and the Elves are in conflict, and the Dwarves remain in underground and mountainous colonies to the south, the Elves in heavy forests to the north. The Orcs and the Barbarians are isolated, the Dark Elves slaves, or underpaid workers if they're lucky. Bandits plague the land, and all are under the tyrannical rule of the mysterious and evil sorcerer, Malacode.

The Barbarians have isolated themselves to the eastern peninsula, with a narrow strip of land the only way into their territory, as the waters surrounding the peninsula are needled with jagged blades of rock. No one is allowed into their land, or else they suffer brutal and bloody death. They reside in camps scattered across the fields and woods of the peninsula, and take pride in their hunting skills. They are fierce and violent, and rumors spread of them even being cannibals. No one knows if this is true.

The Orcs have likewise been exiled to an dark island of the western coast. It is shrouded in dark mist, and to see one on the mainland is a rare sight, caused only by becoming a pariah to their people, and banished from the island to survive on their own. The island seems cursed with dark skies at all times, and it is dangerous to approach it, never mind what they will do to trespassers. There are jagged rocks under the water that shred apart any ships that attempt to approach. It takes an Orc to guide a ship, for only they know the safe paths. The island is heavy with woods, a single mountain in the center. Though not nearly as violent as the barbarians, they are still considered savage beasts.

The Dwarven choose to keep to themselves in their mountains, only surfacing to sell their masterpieces of weapons and armor. They are by far the best smiths in the land, to own one of their pieces is a privilege. No one but they know what it is like inside their colonized mountains and caverns, beautiful bronze, silver, and gold cities built inside the rock. Their mines run deep underground, rich with ores and riches.

The Elves mainly reside inside their forest in the north, rich with wildlife and fruit. They build magnificent wooden cities in the tall canopy of the trees. They are by far the best magic wielders in the land, and are experts in runes and potions. Their weapon enchantments are truly something to behold, or to beware if you facing the wrong end of them.

The Dark Elves are oppressed. They are mostly owned by men and elves who are in league with the mighty Empire. The lucky ones are underpaid workers in bars or inns. They are despised by the other races for introducing the Red Death to the land when they sent ships from their home island miles off the coast to explore other lands. Their fleet made the mistake of landing in Rython, and were quickly defeated by the Empire. None of their people who remained on the island have come to rescue them, and over the past century they have been sold and traded as slaves. They have a strong connection to dark magic, but they lack the resources to hone and increase their power, and so remain powerless against their oppresive owners. They carried a disease they're immune to with them on the ships, and for nearly a decade the Red Death killed the other races. The Red Death still occasionally springs upon another victim, and there is no known cure. It kills it's victims by causing internal bleeding, vomiting blood, and blood streaming from the various orifices. It is extremely painful, and some choose to mercy kill the victims. It is unknown why the Dark Elves are immune to it. It is very, very, very rare for a Dark Elf to be truly free, traveling on their own through the land. They cannot leave due to the Empire regulating ships.

Mankind is the primary inhabitant of Rython. Unlike the other races, who all seem to collectively gravitate towards a certain skill set; Elves to magic, Dwarves to smithing and battle, Barbarians and Orcs to war, and Dark Elves to Dark Magic, Man possesses the curious potential to master any skill they choose. Of course every race has exceptions, but Mankind is definitely the most diverse race.

The Empire is mostly comprised of Man and Elven. They have a few Orcs, a couple Barbarians, but no Dwarves or Dark Elves. Though no one may say it out loud, they are evil, a medieval dictatorship. Malacode, the dark sorcerer lord of the Empire, rules with an iron fist. He rarely makes a public appearance, and few know his racial identity. It is very likely that he isn't a Dwarf, and definitely isn't a Dark Elf, as he was already in power when the Dark Elves first came to Rython. It is known, however, that he is a powerful sorcerer, a master of all magic. He has been in rule for centuries, it is unknown how he has lived for so long. But perhaps most terrifying of all, he gained control over the last dragon, Xarant. A fiery, black dragon, he is rumored to be kept in the bowels of Malacode's massive castle, kept hidden away until Malacode has use for him. He has an elite team of enforcers, called the Inquisitors. They act as his generals, commanding his massive army. The imperial soldiers are many, and quickly snuff out any signs of rebellion. They have absurd, but nevertheless enforced laws that tightly control all in the land. Every village, including the Orcs and Dwarves, must pay some form of taxes. The Orcs have a large silver mine under their island, and pay with that. The Dwarves pay in gold. The Barbarians, however, do not pay taxes, for the price of not being allowed to leave the peninsula where they reside. Due to this, if a Barbarian is ever discovered outside the designated territory, they are publicly executed. Trade is strictly regulated, and any taboo items are confiscated, and the owner tortured. The main city, Malebolge, has a strict curfew for citizens. Ships are forbidden to leave the mainland without soldiers accompanying it, and can only travel for approved reasons.

Added onto all of this are the monsters that roam the many caves and mountains and woods. Man eating trolls, wolves, and bandits. Ancient dungeons long forgotten house demonic skeletons, and guardian beasts. And the ever evasive, and deadly, manticore prowls the forests.

But Rython is not without beauty. The forests, while home to deadly creatures, are also home to the fair folk, small magical beings that are always happy to guide travellers. The lush greenery and ripe fruits entice adventurers. The mountains are white against the sky, shining and glorious. And though the people are oppressed, it doesn't stop their fun. Festivals, merchants, farms, and bards are commonplace, and inns welcome travelers with open arms and hot meals. And the bars are home to strong mead and ale, challenging the hardiest warriors to keep their drinks. The shrines and churches to the mighty Gods and Goddesses; Thanos, God of Honor and Loyalty, and the lord of the gods, Jather, God of Dreams and Hope, Araina, Goddess of Love and Compassion, Eridite, Goddess of Intelligence and Wisdom, and Zaxon, god of War and Revenge, are beautiful and holy.

Now for your character. Guidelines are: Needs to be a hero of some kind, or potential hero. You can be diverse, and be as creative and descriptive as possible. Post Apps in reviews, no PMs. If you see another app you'd like your OC to be in a relationship with, ask them and if you both agree tell me and I'll try to work on it if I accept both OCs. I will accept five OCs.

Now, you can also send me an inquisitor, on of Malacode's elite enforcers. Follow the app the same, but Inquisitors can't be a Dark Elf or Dwarf. Follow my app below.

BASIC INFO:

Name: Ruinir Orin

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual

Romantic Relationships: He is looking for one, and would like someone who is kind and loyal. He has no preference of race. (Either none, in one, looking for one, or just likes to hook up)

Bio: It starts with his parents. An elven warrior, his mother was among the best archers and magic users in her people. His father, a veteran dwarf who was experienced in battle, and his colony's best smithy. One day, in a skirmish between the two races, they laid eyes on each other. Relationships between any two races is considered taboo, but the fell in love. They saw each other in secret, and their relationship grew strong. They both began to try persuading their races for a truce, but too much bad blood was between them. Then, his mother was impregnated. When the other Elves found out, she was banished, a pariah among her people. His father's people were angry, but they saw the love between them, and cared for their brother. They allowed his mother to live among them, and over time grew comfortable with them. That colony grew less hateful of the Elves, and backed away from the ongoing conflict. Ruinir was born. The dwarves were more than accepting of his parentage, and like all dwarves, he was accepted as their brother. His parents each taught him skills they knew, his father swords and smithing, his mother stealth and archery. He was a natural learner for the bow, and quickly became an amazing shot. He almost never misses. His father taught him how to wield dual short swords, and he mastered them. As he grew up, he trained constantly, becoming a hardened warrior. He had a kind heart, and wanted to travel the land as a hero as a child. He achieved this dream, and now travels the land as a hero for hire, though he refuses to work for the corrupt and evil, and actively fights and kills those that would do evil.

Personality: Despite his elven blood, he considers himself dwarven, is rowdy, loves to get drunk on mead with his friends, fiercely loyal, hardy, and follows dwarven beliefs and morals. The Dwarves have always prided themselves on their loyalty and honor, unlike the Elves who valued intelligence and skill. Along with his loyalty and honor, he had a compassionate heart, and vowed to himself to protect the innocent.

Strengths: He is the perfect mix of Elf and Dwarf. The skill, looks, and agility of an elf, and the strength, honor, and toughness of a dwarf. His dwarven strength along with his expert marksmanship allows him to use a bow with a stronger draw weight than others. Despite his elven blood, he has no affinity for magic, only basic knowledge of runes. He does have great knowledge of potions and poisons, though. His father taught him how to fight with dual short swords, his mother taught him how to shoot with pinpoint accuracy. He has an elven lean physique, though slightly more muscular due to his dwarven blood.

Weaknesses: He is loyal to a fault, willing to do absolutely anything to protect those he cares about. He has a weakness among Elves as he has no knowledge or ability in magic. He can hold his own in front lines and in close quarters, and win, but he prefers using his bow, or assassinating from the shadows. His light armor, while prime for movement, offers little protection against heavy weapons.

APPEARANCE:

Hair: Short, brown, messy/ruffled

Facial Hair: None

Eyes: Deep, dark brown

Skin Tone: Tan (If dark elven, shade of white through black, if orcish, shade of green)

Physique: Lean and muscular

Race: Elven/Dwarven (Dark elven, Elven, Orcish, Man, Dwarven, Barbaric)

War Paint/Tattoos: Similar to Kratos, war paint black stripe starting at a tip on his cheek and across his left eye up to his hair.

Scars: Vertical cut across his right eye. Various scars on his body and back.

ARMOR/ROBES:

Armor Material: Reinforced leather with dark steel trim and decor.

Robe Material: None

Cloak Material: Fabric with double the amount of fibers, tough enough to resist blades scraping across and medium force attacks.

Armor Description: Ruinir wears a black leather cuirass and faulds, and black leather vambraces and sleeves. He has black leather greaves and thigh guards. All his armor has thin dark steel designs for show.

Helmet/Hood Description: Hood attached to cloak, see cloak description

Cloak Description: He wears a dark cowl and cape that is enchanted to blend in with his surroundings. It's as black as his armor is when he isn't hiding, but when he wraps it around himself to hide it change to match the colors of his surroundings. It's flowing and silent, and soft to the touch, yet tough enough to protect him. It has small dark steel pauldrons underneath the shoulder area.

Robe Description: N/A

WEAPONS/MAGIC:

Weapon choices are as follows: Bows, crossbows, Daggers, Throwing Knives, Short Swords, Small Axes, Medium Swords, Maces, Flails, War Axes, Two Handed Swords, Battle Axes, War Hammers, and Lances. Magic choices are as follows: Dark, Light, Battle, Runes. See below for more info on each type.

Weapons/Magic of Choice: Bow, dual short swords, throwing knives, dagger

Ranged Weapons: Longbow made of tough wood from the Elven forest given to him from his mother. It has a 150 lb. draw weight. He uses special arrows designed by his father to penetrate thick armor, coupled with the strong draw weight gives his arrows immense power. If someone without armor gets hit by his arrows, they're dead. He has a couple dozen throwing knives in his belt.

Melee Weapons: Dual short swords, gifts from his father. A clean cut double edged dagger with no jagged edges for clean cuts and slices to smoothly assassinate someone.

Magic Most Used: Basic runes, unlocking simple locks and minor protection runes. (What kind of magic do they favor)

HORSE:

Everyone needs a good horse. Whether they're built for speed, battle, or stamina, horses are a necessity.

Name: Angeline

Gender: Female

Coat: Sleek black coat.

Eyes: Obsidian black

Purpose: Traveling (Are they meant for war and battle, or traveling. Traveling will typically be smaller but faster and have more stamina. War will be bigger and stronger but not meant for long distance traveling.)

Armor: None. She likes to be free of any confinement, and Ruinir enjoys riding bareback.

STATS:

You can have three 10s, two 9s, two 8s, two 7s, the rest have to be 6 or below. 1 is the lowest you can go.

Ranged Weapons: 10 (Bows, Crossbows, Throwing knives, etc.)

Small Melee Weapons: 9 (Daggers, Short swords, Small axes)

Medium Melee Weapons: 7 (Swords, Maces, War axes, Flails)

Heavy Melee Weapons: 1 (Two handed swords, Battle Axes, War hammers, Lances)

Runes: 3 (These have a multitude of purposes, protection, traps, healing, locking/unlocking, battle)

Light Magic: 1 (Casting shields, healing, Casting light)

Dark Magic: 1 (Shadows, Invisibility, Short range teleportation, weak mind manipulation, Summoning creatures. Not necessarily evil.)

Battle Magic: 1 (Fire, Explosive magic, Ice, Earth, Lightning, Air, )

Potions/Poisons: 8 (Self explanatory. Basically knowledge on how to make various potions and poisons.)

Charm: 9 (How well they can get along with people, or verbally manipulate them.)

Stealth: 10 (How good are they at hiding, sneaking, stealing, assassinating, etc.)

Smithing: 7 (Creating/Repairing armor or weapons)

Attunement to nature: 10 (How well do they get along with animals, 10s can actually communicate with them. Also means how well they are attuned to their surroundings)

Survival Skills: 8 (Cooking with only what nature offers, sleeping in the wilderness, camping out, hunting, etc.)

Again, post apps in the reviews. I'll just delete apps sent to me through PM.


	2. Character Update

Heroes:

Ruinir by Death546

Azari by Red blooded being

Zaggar Rile by Shaggy Rower

Raya Firestone by Hawk-eye-33

Ladaia Horotieus by SemipeacefulHippie

Mira Elaran by stormrunner74

Katrana Azgadan by TheNightGirl

Gogrn Agun by W. R. Winters

Inquisitors:

Trarus Hlendar by W. R. Winters

That's all the heroes, people! But you can still send in Inquisitors, and those I'd like to be PM. Now I won't be publishing the first chapter, or possibly finish it, until after next week, so I can finish the school year. Then I can focus on the story. And as this goes on, please keep in mind I am also writing two other fics, so the updates won't always be frequent. That's all, Death out.


	3. Chapter 1

Hello! I'm really sorry this chapter took so long to write, I wanted to make sure I did all your OC's justice, also I got caught up in one of my other fics. But here's the first chapter, so enjoy.

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Azari stared into the mirror. Her eyes trailed the twisting and winding vine pattern that surrounded it. She sighed as she finished putting on her jewelry. The silver earrings complimented the silver amethyst amulet around her neck. Her father wanted her to look her best for the court.

She twirled around, staring at the willowing Snow White gown she wore. A knock at the door. It was time to go.

The servant, a dark elf, stood in her doorway. She inwardly cringed at the bloody gash across his cheek.

"M-m'lady. Yer father has sent for you." He stammered out.

She nodded. "Thank you." She said kindly. The servant merely stared at his feet. He led her down the hall, limping. She withheld another sigh. The way these people were treated was abhorrent, but she knew better than to speak up. To advocate for the race that introduced the Red Death would surely destroy her father's political standing and career.

They reached the hall doors, and the servant hastened to open them. He stood silent, eyes averted as she walked out into the forest. Most would stare in awe at the lush greenery and frolicking animals, but Azari had seen it so many times she barely noticed the beauty around her home. The glowing carriage awaited her, and she stepped in, sitting next to her father. He looked her up and down, decided she looked good enough, and went back to looking at a scroll.

They were silent for the entirety of the ride.

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A few hours later the carriage pulled into Malebolge. Azari looked out at the people. Most were sullen, grey faced. Imperial guards patrolled the streets, "keeping the peace" they said.

The carriage halted, and they stepped down. Her father led her through the streets to the square, where a large statue of their Lord overlooked a fountain. People were bustling about, going on their daily routines.

Suddenly, music hit her ears. Slow, musical flute notes filled the square. She looked around, and her eyes landed on a cloaked figure. He turned, and Azari saw his face. Tan and toned, an elf. No, his ears were too short, yet they were still pointed.

He sauntered around the fountain, playing his flute. A sleek black horse followed him, clopping her hooves to the music. Azari smiled. She had been to Malebolge before, music was a rare occurrence here. People started smiling, a couple laughing at his dances. Her father ignored him, looking for the man they were meeting. She, however, enjoyed the music. His fingers danced across the silver flute, blowing notes that travelled across the square. Some people tossed silver at him, a couple threw some gold. His horse carried a hat that caught the coins. He passed Azari, and she reached into her coin purse and tossed a small handful of gold at the hat. The man nodded in gratitude at her generosity, and continued his dance. A few people cheered.

Then the inevitable happened. Four guards marched over to him. They stood, blocking him, he stared at them as he continued to play. A guard snatched the flute. "You're disturbing the peace." He growled.

The man smiled. "I'm just trying to entertain these good people. Who doesn't love a good song?"

"Me." The Orc growled. He eyed the hat full of coins. "You have two choices. Either you can be taken to the dungeon, or you can pay your toll for this crime. Those will do."

He scowled. "How much gold is in that treasury? What are a few coins going to do for you?"

"You have five seconds before I decide for you." The Orc growled.

The man glared at him, then reached into the hat and tossed the coins at him. The guard caught them, grinning. "Smart man. Now get out of here before…"

"Yeah yeah yeah, death threats, torture, dungeon, suffering, I get the gist." The man interrupted. "Can I have my flute back?"

The guard grinned, and snapped it in half, throwing the pieces at his feet. "There you go." He sneered. He motioned to the other guards, and they walked away.

The man scoffed, and picked up his instrument. He went to leave the square, passing Azari. As he neared her, she took out some more coins. "Here." She said, holding them out.

The man smiled. "I appreciate that, princess, but no need." He grinned and held up the hat, filled with coins. "I stole my money back."

She smiled. "You're quite the troublemaker." She said.

His grin widened. "Indeed I am. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm waiting for someone." He gave a little wave and wandered off. She turned to her father, who had a disapproving stare on his face. "You shouldn't have done that." He said. "He was a thief."

Azari scowled. "The guard was the thief, father." She whispered. "He just took back what was his."

"Azari, listen to… Here he comes. Lerond! How are you?"

Azari turned to see a sick looking old man coming towards them. And he gave her the chills.

"Fine, Aradon. How can I help you?" He asked.

"This is my daughter, Azari. Azari, this is Lerond. He is one of the best tailors in Rython." Her father said. "He'll be designing a new dress for you."

Azari stared at her father. "We came all the way to Malebolge to get a new dress?"

Her father smiled. "Ah, but this one is special. A wedding gown."

Her face paled. "W-wedding?! Father, I don't even have someone to marry!"

"Of course you do. There is an elven lord of very high standing, and his son has taken a fancy to you." He said.

Azari stared, speechless. Then her face turned to anger. "You married me off?! Without even speaking to me?!" She exclaimed, outraged.

Her father scowled. "Azari, this is very important. You'll be marrying into a very rich and influential family."

Azari glared at her father. "I haven't even _met_ this man."

"Who says that's required for marriage?" Her father asked. "You'll be…"

"I'll be furthering your own ambitions is what I'll be doing." She spat, her voice filled with venom.

Her father's jaw dropped, then he scowled. "We'll talk about this later." He said. "Right now Lerond has to work with you."

Lerond walked around her, measuring her with his eyes. "I have a few ideas. Let's go back to my place, I'll get to work." He said.

A shadow over came them, and they paled. A large Orc was towering over them. The mark of the Inquisitors on his chest plate. "I heard yelling over here." The Inquisitor growled. "Is there a problem?"

Her father shook his head, pale. "No sir, just an argument with my daughter."

His red eyes found Azari, and stared at her. "Keep quiet, girl." He growled. "You're disturbing the peace."

Her father nodded frantically. "Yes sir, Inquisitor. She'll behave."

The Orc scowled. "She better." He growled he turned away from them, and then an arrow impaled his forehead. He dropped to the ground, and guards swarmed into the square, searching for the fool stupid enough to dare strike down on of Malacode's elite.

Azari stared in shock at the dead inquisitor, then her eyes followed the direction of where the arrow had come from. On a rooftop, she saw a familiar cloak. The figure slung his bow over his shoulder, then took off across the rooftops, undetected. She spotted two silver rods hanging from his hip.

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The guards scoured the city for hours, but the assassin was nowhere to be found. Lerond took Aradon and his daughter to his house in the city, measured Azari, and told the elven lord that he would whip something up and sent a courier to his home. He sighed as the elves left his house, and went upstairs to shed his robes and make up. He tore away the fake hair, and admired himself in his mirror. He hated covering up his face with wrinkles and grey hair, but it was necessary. He looked at a scroll on his table, his schedule for the week. All he had planned was a meeting with a client who wanted a fur cloak made. So then Lerond can be ill once more on the data before and after, and manage to pull himself out of bed for the client. Zaggar grinned. Dzin would get to return for a few days. He had gleaned word that an Imperial ship was carrying goods from Malebolge to another island under Imperial control. Lot's of goods for Dzin to sell to further improve Lerond's business. This would be fun.

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Zaggar donned his mask and armor, and raced across the rooftops once night fell, and made his way towards the docks. He spotted the ship, and leapt and grabbed onto the side. He lifted himself over the side, and hid behind some barrels.

After the soldiers passed, he made his way to the bridge. An elf was steering the ship. He snuck up behind him, and slashed his throat. As the elf choked on his own blood, he grabbed the wheel, and spun it. He aimed it for some jagged rocks ahead, then snapped off the wheel. He ran and jumped over the railing. He heard yelling as the soldiers realised what was happening. They could do nothing. The boat smashed into the rocks, shredding the wood and killing the passengers.

He swam around, and made his way across the small strip of land to the ruined ship. Chests of gold and food poured across the sand. He grinned, and started collecting what he wanted. He heard groaning, and walked around some wreckage to see a soldier, badly injured, crawling through the sand.

Zaggar made his way to the soldier, and the man paled as he recognized the infamous mask and armor. "Dzin!" He shrieked. "Please, I'll…" Zaggar didn't let him finish. He drew his dagger and plunged it between the man's eyes, silencing him. Zaggar went about his business, pulling away a small boat that had survived the crash. He loaded it up with the goods, and started making his way back to Malebolge.

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Trarus rounded the corner, the house coming into sight. He covered his eyes from the glaring sun, squinting at the house. He wished it was nighttime. He urged Snowfire onwards to his target.

A slave approached him, her dark grey skin covered with abrasions. "Can I help you, sir?" She asked meekly. Trarus felt the familiar pangs of anger at the mistreatment of the dark skinned race, but said nothing. "I am Inquisitor Trarus. I am looking for your master."

The woman nodded, leading him to the backyard. An old man was walking through his garden, watching his slaves tend to it. Trarus thanked the dark elf, to her surprise, and made his way for the man. "Cyrus Gamor?" He called.

The man turned to, paling slightly at the sight of his armor. "Yes, Inquisitor? How may I help you?" He asked, his voice shaky.

Trarus's eyes narrowed. "You haven't paid your taxes, and openly spoke out against Lord Malacode."

His eyes widened. "Why, that was a mere misunderstanding! And I have my taxes, I-I just forgot to send them! Yes!"

"When a guard showed up to collect your taxes, you slammed the door in his face and sicced your dog on him." He answered cooley. "Which is inexcusable." He drew one of his short swords.

Cyrus was completely pale now. Then he whistled, and a sinister bark was heard. Trarus turned to see a dog running at him. He narrowed his eyes, and thrust out his hand. The dog's neck snapped, and it fell to the ground, dead. He turned to see Cyrus running. He drew a throwing knife, and threw it. It landed squarely in Cyrus's back, killing him instantly. The slaves ran, and Trarus made his way back to Snowfire.

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Trarus walked into the throne room. It was dark, black, the only light coming from a single red stained window at the top of the back wall. He walked across the red and black carpet, and kneeled in front of his Lord. "My Lord, Cyrus is dead, his house burned down."

Malacode was drenched in shadow, his body hidden in the black. The only part of him visible were his glowing red snake eyes. "Very good, my boy." He said. His voice was deep, sharp, piercing, insidious. It seemed to surround Trarus when he spoke. It was filled with darkness and evil. "Once more you have proven to be invaluable to me."

"Thank you, my Lord." Trarus responded. He kept his eyes on the ground.

The dark lord was silent for a minute. "One of your brothers was slain in the square today, Inquisitor Zarn. The assassin was unable to be found or tracked. You are my best assassin, hunt him down and bring him to me. I want him alive."

Trarus nodded and rose. "It will be done, my Lord." He turned to exit the dark room.

"Trarus. I wanted to speak to you when you returned from your assassination, but I'd rather keep your mind in the task at hand. Once the assassin is captured, bring him straight to me."

"Yes, my Lord."

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Katrana rode her horse down the dirt path. She drank from her canteen, and kept her eyes on the tree line. She spotted figures darting between the trees, watching her progress. She sighed, and wrapped her hand around her ax.

After a minute, she rounded a corner to come face to face with a group of bandits.

"Off the horse. Now." An elf said. Katrana didn't move.

An orc approached her. "Maybe you didn't hear him. Get. Off. The horse."

"As you wish." Katrana whispered. In one fluid motion she leapt off of Babrok, drawing her war axes, and decapitating the orc. She threw aside her cloak, standing at her full height. Though she was shorter than other barbarians, she was tall. The bandits paled as they realized they had screwed with a barbarian. She let out a roar, and dashed towards them. They futilely tried to defend themselves, her axes cutting them down and smashing their shields.

They were dead within a minute. Katrana wiped her blades on the fur armor of them, then climbed back onto Babrok, pulling her cloak back around her. She sighed, today had been busy. She had killed a bandit camp, returning stolen property to the man who had hired her. She desperately needed a drink. She smiled as fortune smiled upon her, as a tavern came into view.

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Mira wandered into the marketplace, careful to keep her hood up. Though she had carefully disguised herself as a normal elf, her dark elven ears were a dead giveaway to anyone paying attention.

She spotted a guard harassing a human at his stall, demanding tax payment. She scowled, but bided her time. As the guard left, she followed, walking behind him. She reached out her hand, taking his coin purse he had taken from his hip, and then hurrying back to the stall. The man was trying to pick up the fruits the guard had spilled. She knelt down to help, and as the last apple was picked up, she held out the coinpurse. The man's eyes widened at his returned property, and in thanks gave Mira a few coins from the purse and a free fruit of her choice.

She munched on her apple as she walked the streets. A festival was on today, and there were entertainers everywhere. She smiled as she passed a man juggling swords, balancing the tips on his toes and nose.

But she didn't watch where she was going, and she ran into someone. As she stood up, she gasped at her rotten luck of knocking over an imperial guard. The elf scowled, grabbing her wrist. "How dare you attack a soldier of the Empire?! Come with me, boy, you will be punished severely for this!"

Mira gritted her teeth, struggling against the guard's grip. Desperate times called for drastic measures. She drew her rapier, and swiped. The guard let go of her, crying out and clutching the gash across his face. Mira took off, the shouts of the guard travelling across the square.

She ran into an alley, emerging on the opposite side and drawing her cloak tightly around her. She had to escape. She spotted a horse stall, and ran for it. Inside was a lone horse, white and orange speckles. The name above his stall was Cadoc. Had to do. She hopped on, and kicked its sides to spur it on. She steered the horse out of the stall, and headed for the woods. She heard the clopping hooves of the guards' horses in pursuit.

She rode through the foliage, branches scratching her face. She caught sight of a blue aura… fair folk! The fairy flew alongside her, and motioned for her to follow it. She turned the horse, heading down a narrow path. She grinned, the war horses the guards use would never be able to fit through here.

The fairy led her to the other side of the woods. As she emerged into the sunlight, she smiled at the fairy. "Thank you, I appreciate the help."

The fairy bowed, and then flew off into the woods. Mira turned, and observed the clearing around her. She knew where she was. She spurred the horse onward, riding towards the nearby town.

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Ruinir entered the tavern, a grin on his face. He sat down at the bar, and a dark elf walked over to him. The barkeep. "Welcome, sir, can I help you?"

"What's that new ale going around? Honey something? I'll have a tank of that, my good man." Ruinir said, smiling.

The dark elf hurried to pour him his tankard, and returned. "Here you are s… is tis my tip?"

Ruinir had palced a large coin purse down. "Yep. Enjoy my friend." Ruinir said, sipping at the ale. The dark elf grinned, taking the purse and hurrying to the back.

An orc sat down next to Runir. "You mad, boy?" He grumbled. Ruinir looked at him questioningly. "What are you doing giving that scum money?"

Ruinir ignored the orc, drinking his tankard dry. As he finished, he set it down, and stood up, heading for the entrance. He stopped when a pale man walked through. And by looking at the insignia on his chest, he knew he was an Inquisitor. "Where is Ruinir Orin?" The man asked the bar.

Ruinir smirked. He was impressed, this Inquisitor was good to have found him so quickly. "I assume this is regarding the incident at Malebolge?"

The Inquisitor glared at him. "Ruinir Orin, you are under the arrest for the murder of Inquisitor Zarn. Come quietly, and you may be shown mercy."

Ruinir laughed. "I'm not stupid, Inquisitor. I know Malacode doesn't show 'mercy.' You'll have to fight me."

The Inquisitor threw back his cloak, raising his hands, dark red energy surrounding them. Ruinir recognized this magic, vampiric magic. Ruinir drew his short swords, getting into a battle stance. "You'll find I'm harder to kill than you'd expect." he growled.

The Inquisitor scowled. "That goes both ways." With that he tossed dark fire at the outlaw. Ruinir dodged the fire, the men in the tavern scattering and scurrying for the door. Ruinir hid behind a table, drawing his rune wand. He drew a simple destruction rune on the table, then kicked it at the Imperial prick. It exploded on impact, the Inquisitor flying into the wall. Ruinir drew his bow and fired three arrows at once in the space of a second. One hit the Inquisitor's knee, but he managed to halt the other two in mid air. He roared, red lightning flying from his fingertips.

Ruinir grabbed a fallen shield, deflecting the magic, throwing a knife at the Inquisitor. He grabbed the knife out of the air, throwing it back at Ruinir. Ruinir leapt away, surprised. This Inquisitor was very good.

Then he received unexpected help. A woman who had been in the restroom ran at the Inquisitor, dual axes raised. Tristan recognized her barbarian build, and grinned. He ran to join her grapple with the Inquisitor, drawing his swords and cleaving at the pale man.

He scowled, and used his vampiric telekinesis to throw his attackers off. He had also recognized that the woman was a barbarian. "You're over the border. You are sentenced to death." He hissed.

"Try and kill me, see what happens." She growled.

Trarus grinned, lifting all the tables in the room, and throwing them all at the barbarian. She cleaved two of them in two before she was buried under the rest. Then Trarus went flying into the wall, his sides aching from the kick from his original target. The man ran to throw away the tables, when the barbarian got herself out, throwing the tables aside.

Ruinir had been in enough battles to know it was time to retreat. This particular Inquisitor was very powerful, and Ruinir had heard the rumors of Malacode's personal vampiric assassin. He took the barbarian woman's wrist, and they ran out of the tavern, the barbarian tossing a fireball at the entrance to collapse it, impeding the vampire's pursuit.

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Raya kept her stony face as she was led to the guillotine. Malacode had grown fond of beheadings lately.

The guards opened the double doors, and she squinted against the sunlight. The silence hit her. No one was cheering, or calling for her head. Probably because they had heard what she was being executed for. Inciting rebellion, killing a squadron of Imperial soldiers with Gogrn.

Thankfully her orcish friend had escaped. Now, if she could just get out of her current situation, and get back to him. Her magic was useless, there were suppressing runes on her bonds.

She was shoved to the wooden block. Okay, now she was worried. A guard stepped in front of her, all she could see were her stupid silver greaves.

"Raya Firestone. You have been accused of inciting rebellion, and the murders of sixteen Imperial soldiers. Your sentence is beheading." the guard said, a sick grin spreading across her face.

A bucket was placed under her head, and she heard the scrape of steel as the executioner raised his blade.

Then a roar resounded across the square, and an explosion a few feet away from her blew the executioner off his feet. Raya grinned as the murky green orc ran onto the platform, crushing the heads of the guards under his maces.

He threw a guard off the stage, and helped Raya up, handing her her bow and daggers. "Bandit and Broadhoof are outside the village. Go, I'll join you in a minute." he growled.

Raya nodded, taking off, shooting five guards as she ran. She made it to the horses, jumping onto Bandit, and kicking his sides. As he took off, Gogrn got onto Broad Hoof, joining her.

He caught up to her, and after a few minutes they slowed, and she turned to Gogrn, smiling. "Thanks, but next time, think maybe you could get there a bit sooner? Cutting it a little close."

He grimaced. "Tried my best. Damn guards everywhere."

Raya shrugged her shoulders. "Well, thanks for getting me out of there. I appreciate it."

Gogn smiled. "No problem. So, there's an Imperial camp due west from here, care to pay them a visit?"

Raya grinned. "I'd love to."

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Ladaia walked up to the doors of the inn, smiling as the swinging "The Rich Hive" sign nearly hit her head as she walked through the doors. She walked among the mercs and soldiers, up to the bartender. "Hello, can I get a drink?" She asked. The bartender whipped around, breaking into a grin, walking around the bar to hug Laia.

"Laia, you're back! Here, sit, sit, I'll get you some stew." Her father said excitedly. Laia smiled as her mother came out, racing to embrace her daughter. "Laia! What brings you back here?"

"I was in the area, and wanted to visit you guys." She answered, grinning.

Her father returned with stew for three, and they sat down together. As Laia started telling them of her travels, a glass smashed against the wall. "Barkeep… hic… bring us another round, or you'll be strung up in the gallows."

Laia's father scowled, but got up to serve the drunken soldiers. Laia turned to her mother. "Why do you let them treat you like that?"

"Sweetie, there's a lot more to it. To cross the Empire is suicide. We must take it in stride, and hope they leave eventually." She answered weakly. Laia scowled at the guards, but said nothing. She overheard a pair of mercs talking the next table over.

"I swear, this guy just shot an Inquisitor. In broad daylight. And he actually got away with it! Whoever this guy is, he's an expert assassin."

"Well, he won't be for long. Heard Malacode dispatched his personal assassin. Guy won't be around for very long."

Laia pursed her lips. She had heard of whispers of rebellion lately. This assassin seems to have brought the rebellion to light.

I realize there isn't a lot this chapter, and some of the OCs got shorter bits than others, but this is just an introduction of the characters. I will try to update as soon as I can, but until then, Death out.


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